


tip well

by dutchydoescoke



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: It’s getting late, clock ticking over to one when the door to the bar opens and a werewolf Jace isn’t familiar with steps in. He figures it’s not cause for concern since he’s not familiar with the rest of Maia’s pack, but the sound of glass shattering makes him realize itisa cause for concern.





	tip well

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a prompt fill and instead turned into its own thing. i'm still not terribly fond of it but i hate looking at it so i'm declaring it done. not canon compliant obviously. this takes place at some random point in a universe where we get to see them hang out and that's about it.
> 
> i don't know. it happened. it's a thing.

It’s getting late, clock ticking over to one when the door to the bar opens and a werewolf Jace isn’t familiar with steps in. He figures it’s not cause for concern since he’s not familiar with the rest of Maia’s pack, but the sound of glass shattering makes him realize it _is_ a cause for concern.

Maia’s gone stock-still and looking like she’s seen a ghost. Judging by the way the new werewolf is staring at Maia, this is part of the minefield that Maia’s history consists of.

Jace knows better than to start shit in the bar, so he decides to help by grabbing the broom from the corner and nudging Maia aside to sweep up the broken glass. It takes a minute for her to notice what he’s doing but when she does, there’s an over-dramatic sigh and she takes the broom from him.

“You’re terrible at this. Don’t shadowhunters have to do manual labor?” Maia asks, but the teasing feels forced and her usual smirk looks strained. When he starts to move back to his stool, she grabs his arm. “Thank you, though. That’s Jordan.”

Jace _knows_ that name from the bits and pieces Maia’s told of her past, that seeing him is a nightmare come to life. He rests a hand over hers in reassurance and asks the question burning on his tongue, quiet enough to not be overheard. “Do you want me to get rid of him? I can start a fight so you have justification for kicking him out.”

“Not right now. I might take you up on it if he sticks around,” she says. Even if he hadn’t put together how serious it was before this, that would be the final puzzle piece. He’s offered it before when people are being assholes to her but she never takes him up on it. For her to even consider it is a sign of how much this is affecting her. “Don’t sit down yet, though. Just…” She pauses and there’s a nervousness in her that Jace hasn’t seen before. “Just in case.”

It’s a serious request, so Jace forgoes the teasing he’d usually give in favor of pulling off his jacket and tugging up his sleeves. He picks up a rag and starts wiping down the bar the way he’s seen Maia do, under the pretense that he’s working there. There’s quiet laughter that he suspects is from some of the patrons who are familiar with him, no doubt amused to see a shadowhunter working the bar. He ignores it and sweeps the scattered peanuts and pretzels into his hand to dump in the trash.

Maia’s still nervous, he can tell, but she deals with it the way only Maia would, by dealing with it head-on and as fast as she can. She straightens and puts on her customer service smile and calls out to Jordan and the people he’s with.

“Do any of you gentlemen want a drink?”

Jace keeps an eye on it while he pours a rum and coke for one of the werewolves he does recognize that’s standing at the bar. The click of the can opening almost drowns out Jordan’s response.

“Maia. I—How are you?” Jace keeps his head down while he hands the drink off, which hides the wince at the awkward response.

“Working. Drink?” Maia asks. It’s curt and lacks the warmth he’s grown to associate with her, but it puts Jordan off and there’s a mumble about a beer before Maia turns back around. “Is he still looking?”

Jace looks over and shakes his head. Maia breathes out and visibly attempts to pull herself together, grabbing glasses to pour the beer and mix whatever Jordan’s companions ordered. Her hands are shaking, glasses rattling as she puts them on the tray, and he watches the green flare in her eyes.

“I’ll take them over.” And before she can argue, he picks up the tray and carries it over to the table, only just managing to dodge one of the Seelies that’s cutting across the floor to the bar. Maia’s going to give him shit for not letting her do it, but he remembers facing his nightmares and Maia doesn’t deserve that. “Gentlemen, your drinks.”

Jace hands the glasses out and tucks the tray under his arm the way he’s seen Maia do a hundred times. Jordan’s looking at him in a way that Jace doesn’t like, but he ignores it and tells the others at the table to let him know if they need anything else, turning his back on Jordan when he walks away.

“I could have done that,” is what Maia says when Jace sets the tray down. He picks up the rag to clean up a sticky spot she was complaining about earlier, scrubbing at it, and lets out a breath not unlike she did.

“You could have. But I know how terrifying it is to face someone you never wanted to see again.” It’s a little _too_ honest and open for them, for their relationship, one built on sarcasm and teasing with a mutual policy of not sharing too much. He figures the moment calls for it but switches gears all the same. “Besides, I’ve seen you do it how many times? Can’t be that hard if you do it and still manage to get tips.”

She hits him in the arm with a dishtowel but there’s a gratefulness in her face that Jace acknowledges with a head tilt. He finishes scrubbing up the mess and tosses the rag back into the sink to be rinsed later.

“Oh my god, thank you for that,” Maia says when she passes him to grab the peach schnapps off the shelf and gestures to the spot with the bottle. “That was going to take forever to clean.”

Jace grins and can’t resist poking her a little more. “You know, I could always quit and work here.”

“You wouldn’t last a day.”

There’s noise in the corner and one of Jordan’s companions comes up to pay for the drinks. Maia relaxes when the door closes behind them with a clatter of the weather stripping hitting the frame.

“You okay?” Jace asks. It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he has to ask anyway. Even though he’s _really_ not an emotional support guy and that’s not the way their relationship works, he doesn’t want to leave her to deal with her demons alone.

“Fine. Now get out from behind my bar before I throw you out,” Maia says, light enough that he can tell it’s an empty threat. Jace obeys all the same and goes back to his stool just in time to have a drink set down in front of him. “On the house.”

It’s the closest to a thank you as he’ll ever get for being there for her tonight and he takes it with a smile.

“So, did they at least tip well?”


End file.
